. Before he married, he
locked the door, when the fishing was good, and put the key in his
pocket, but now Mrs. Bigglethorpe minded the shop in his absence. Having
supplied Coristine with hooks and lines, and recommended him what kind
of a rod to cut out of the bush for ordinary still fishing, he offered
to lend him one of his own fly rods, and opened his fly book for his
inspection. Soon the pair were deep in all kinds of artificial flies and
their manufacture, Black and Red and White Hackles, Peacock Fly,
Mackerel, Green Grasshopper, Black Ant, Governor, Partridge, and a host
more. The lawyer declined the rod, as the storekeeper informed him that,
so late in the season and in the day, it was utterly useless to look for
trout. He had better get old Batiste at the Inn to dig him up some
earthworms, and go fishing with them like the boys. He would find a
canoe moored near the bridge which he could use. Who it belonged to Mr.
Bigglethorpe didn't know, but it was of no consequence, for everybody
took it that wanted it for a morning or afternoon. If Mr. Coristine
heard of any new kind of fly, perhaps he'd be good enough to remember
him and let him know, something killing for autumn use, or, as people
say here, for fall fishing. Mr. Coristine promised to remember him, and
departed with his purchases, just as a voice, feminine but decided,
called to Mr. Bigglethorpe by name to come and hold the baby, while its
owner dished the dinner. "Talk about Hackles," said the lawyer to
himself on the way Inn-wards, "I imagine he has somebody in there that
can hackle him, long beard and all."

The dinner bell at the Maple was ringing vigorously. Monsieur Lajeunesse
had taken off his coat to ring it, and stood in the doorway in a flaming
red waistcoat, the companion of his tuque, over a spotlessly white
shirt, to let all who dwelt on the Beaver River know that the hour of
noon had arrived. The dinner, over which Madame presided, was excellent.
With the soup and the fish there was white wine, and good sound beer
with the entrees and solids. The schoolmaster spoke French to the
hostess, chiefly about the book he had been reading, and the lawyer
discussed fishing with Pierre, who constantly referred to his great
authority, Meestare Bulky. Madame, charmed that her guest could converse
with her in her mother tongue, generously filled his glasses, and
provided his plates with the most seductive morsels. Monsieur
Veelkeenson was the white-haired